


Remind Me of a Broken Pencil

by JKelly



Series: Welcome to Middleton [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKelly/pseuds/JKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor might be a stalker that might be in love with that classmate he always sees in the park with a sketch pad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remind Me of a Broken Pencil

Connor Walsh is a stalker.

That's what he tells himself as he stares at Oliver Hampton for the umpteenth time. Every day after school, Connor stops at the neighborhood park for about an hour to do some homework.

Oliver is scribbling in his sketchbook. Again. Well what Connor presumes is a sketchbook. It’s been a while since they've talked but Connor doesn’t recall the other ever having an interest in art.

Connor always sits on the bench directly across from Oliver so he can stare at ~~him~~ the changing colors on the trees.

He’s currently doing his English homework and simultaneously cursing his teacher because who cares if Macbeth’s wife keeps seeing spots? Connor sighs after reading a particularly hard comprehension question. He looks up and someone catches his eye. 

Oliver’s staring at him. His eyes are clearly wide, even surrounded by those wire rimmed glasses. His hand has stopped moving.

“I-” Connor starts but Oliver is leaving. Oliver clutches his book, grabs his bag and runs.

 “Wait!” Connor takes off after him as he dashes out of the park.“Oliver, just wait- oof!”

Connor feels his face collide with someone else's before he falls onto the ground. He snaps his head up to see that across from him, Oliver is on the ground also. His glasses are hanging on one side of his face and both their bags are lying near a tree.

“W-what do you want?” Oliver says as he adjusts the glasses askew on his face.

What does Connor want? What had he even expected Oliver to do? “I...I wanted to, to tell you that you remind me of a broken pencil.”

Oliver stares. His face is a mix between utter confusion, embarrassment and being 300% done with Connor’s crap. “Um. How?”

“Because life would be pointless without you,” Connor says cheekily.

Oliver blinks which isn’t the reaction Connor was hoping for because that line usually gets a blush or a chuckle.

“I….I” Connor rubs his cheek and looks down. “Uh…” Oliver’s sketchbook is wide open.

It’s a portrait of a boy and amazing one at that. The face is very detailed and drawn darkly in pencil. It has a strong jawline, a prominent nose, two long arches for raised eyebrows, and dark hair with one curl hanging loosely. The boy is smiling - no smirking. The corner of one side of his mouth is obviously curving upwards. But the eyes. The eyes are colored in darkly as well, but there are little white circles that make them shine mischievously.

Connor swears that he’s seen that guy before. It’s clearly not a self portrait. Is it a person from school? An actor? Who does Connor know that has dark hair and eyes, a smile full of mischief, and- Holy crap. Is that him?!

“Is that me?!” Connor shouts pointing to the drawing.

“Yes, Connor,” Oliver sighs. Then his brows furrow as if he realizes what he just said.“I mean no- I mean it’s you but- you know I don’t really think it’s any of your...” Oliver’s face is tomato red. “I-I need to leave,” he cries as he stands up. He brushes his pants off and reaches for the book.

“No!” Connor exclaims and grabs Oliver’s hand. “I think it’s amazing. You’re a great artist Oliver. I mean if it is me, it’s a perfect drawing. I’ve never seen a sketch with so much attention to detail. I’ve never had someone draw me before,” he finishes with a smile.

“You really like it?” Oliver asks softly as he slowly removes his hand from Connor’s grip and picks up the book carefully.

Connor nods. “Love it.”

“D-do you want it? The drawing? Or a better pickup line?”

Connor laughs. “Are you serious?”

“About which one?”

“I’ll have you know that line is gold, so the drawing.”

Oliver grins. He rips out the page and hands it to Connor.

Connor beams at the paper. And if he hangs it up in his room later that night right across from his bed, well no one needed to know about that.


End file.
